


Three Little Empresses

by pinksundays



Series: Dragon Age: Patron of the Arts [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fanzine, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 12:12:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15972074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinksundays/pseuds/pinksundays
Summary: The Inquisition members find out which Empress sits on the throne.





	Three Little Empresses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a a Fanzine (https://patron-of-the-arts-fanzine.tumblr.com/) some time ago!
> 
> Based off the codex entry Three Little Empresses here (http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Codex_entry:_Three_Little_Empresses)
> 
> It's one of my favourites of the codex entries, and if you didn't know, a talented lady on YT brought this song to life and it gave me so much inspiration for the story! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ys3UdrOJB48)

* * *

'Right, you all have your missions. May I also suggest caution over the next few days,' Josephine advised and everyone at the war table shifted uncomfortably. Cullen rubbed his temples and Cassandra made a noise.

'Assassinations are to be expected. Skyhold is not safe for the time being,' the Inquisitor's voice carried across the room and he nodded towards Josephine.

‘Madame de Fer, if you will,’ she requested and with an elegant wave of the woman's hand, the room was engulfed in darkness.

The Game had begun.

 

•••

As Skyhold went ahead with her daily routine, it was not to be said for the Inquisitor and his inner circle. As they exchanged conversations and passed each other through hallways and courtyards, each wore a glance of skepticism and suspicion behind smiles and formalities.

Cassandra fiddled with her _Ardent Blossom_ and Varric smacked her on the elbow. ‘What was that for!? ’

He shushed her. ‘Quiet! Do you want the whole of Skyhold to know that you’re one of three? And stop fidgeting with the flower-crown already.’ It was a gift from the Inquisitor and she had been embarrassed to wear it at first, mainly because she secretly liked it. It was fitting that she wore it now given the circumstance. Blackwall stole a glance at them before heading into the Tavern and made his way for Sera's.

‘I am not used to it,’ she grumbled.

‘Do you have your cards safe at least?’ He asked and she bore them to him.

‘Put those away! It’s like you _want_ to get killed!’

Cassandra rolled her eyes at him. ‘Stop fussing, who could possibly see us from this distance?’

Oh, how wrong she was. After all, they never saw Sera snooping around on the rooftops of Herald's Rest. It was as though she was never there.

After a long afternoon, Cassandra decided to call it a day. Irritating as he may be, Varric probably had a lead on who their enemies were. She was, after all, an impostor out for the crown.

'A West Hill Brandy, please,' she called to Cabot and took a seat at the bar. She rarely drank, but decided that she liked their Ambassador's recommendation enough to want another mug, just to confirm her tastebuds. She caught Varric's eye and he nodded before turning his attention back to a merchant he was chatting with.

Cabot returned with a full mug that was most definitely _not_ a West Hill. 'Sorry, fresh out of ale, spirits, an d anything with alcohol. Tea's on the house,' he explained in a gruff.

'Not even dwarven ale?' Cassandra frowned and he grunted a response.

The Seeker scoffed, but took her drink anyway. It was the milky kind and not the one with brewed leaves like Vivienne drank, 'Urgh, just my luck.' She and her accomplice spoke, reminding her not to look suspicious. It was when they were done that Varric realised what was at the bottom of Cassandra's drink.

A lone almond.

'Andraste's tits, Seeker I told you to be careful!' 

A gleeful laughter was heard, and Cassandra went missing the very next day.

•••

Up on the battlements, Vivienne held her staff proud, its orb glimmering bright in the sun with magic.

'It's done, Cassandra got an almond in her drink! Had to pay what’s-his-face though. Haggler, that one. Asked for _three silvers!_ '

Just one target left, but who was it? Vivienne had eyes like a hawk, and Sera was a fox herself. Surprisingly, they made a great pair—observing, eavesdropping, monitoring. As the true heir, the First Enchanter sashayed through Skyhold, exuding confidence for she was not shy of her royalty. 

'D'you think it's the Inquisitor?' Sera mused, fishing cookies out of a bag and stuffing two into her mouth. The man in question caught their eye from below, gave them a friendly wave and Vivienne returned it, hand poised elegantly in the air.

'A fair point. He is as cunning as he is charming, and that _is_ a stunning new shield too. Too pretty for battle,' she drummed her fingers on the ledge in thought. Their Inquisitor charged at the Iron Bull, only to bounce off of him without so much as causing damage to the Qunari. Bull laughed, pounding at his new armour with a fist, content.

It was later in the evening that she noticed Bull and Inquisitor Trevelyan acting suspiciously. He left first, and when no one was watching, Bull got up, stretched, and left Herald's Rest. Sera heard the song of the Three Little Empresses as she made her way for the door, but late in realising that it wasn't Maryden voice, the elf was met with a dagger as she turned around.

No one could escape Nightingale's eyes, and Sera went missing the very next day.

••• 

Vivienne wore irritation on her face like an orlesian mask as she scoured Skyhold for her missing accomplice. Exhausted, she decided to soak in the bath, only to find the tarot card of a dagger under her cloak.

•••

'Maker's breath, not another one. Please tell me you're the last,' Cullen groaned as the First Enchanter swayed into his office.

'She is,' Solas appeared by the door, startling them as Cassandra and Sera poked their heads out from Cullen's quarters upstairs. They'd been coped up there for the past two days.

'Now that the Empress has been crowned, I’ve come to collect the casualties from the Hold as Reaper,' he held up his tarot card and Cullen fished his own out of his self.

 

 

•••

'You're the third Empress?!' The war room echoed in surprise.

'And now I’m on the throne!' Bull bellowed triumphantly and hi-fived their Inquisitor who was his accomplice. They stood side by side, wearing smug expressions.

'How did you know that Dorian was the Throne?' Cassandra asked as she and Vivienne revealed their cards on the war table—both Empresses—and their accomplices did the same. Vivienne's was the only one that wore a crown.

'Ah, that was my fault,' the mage admitted, scratching his chin.

'Technically I _am_ **on** the throne,' he waggled an eyebrow towards him and Dorian sighed. His card joined the lot as well. 'You really aren't one for subtlety, are you?'

'Next time we go at it, try hiding your cards somewhere other than your silky underthings.' Cassandra made a sound of disapproval. That was literally too much information.

'And what of the Crown?' this time, it was Solas who inquired.

'He asked, and I told him. The hat was a piece and I helped solve the puzzle,' Cole admitted from the shadows and Inquisitor Trevelyan placed the man's hat back on his shaggy blond hair.

'That's not how the game works, Kid,' Varric sighed. 'I _told you_ we should've explained the rules to him again.'

'So... who killed Sera?' Blackwall asked.

'The friggin' Bard did!' The elf whined, pouting in a corner. 

'Leliana!' That was Josephine.

'You told me to have fun too, Josie! I merely saw and opportunity and took it,' giggles bubbled from their Spymaster as she plucked a tune on her lute. Oh, how she missed her instrument. A gift from the late Hero of Ferelden herself. 

The Inquisitor shrugged. 'Well, we're not complaining.'

Cassandra rolled her eyes. 'I am never playing cards with all of you again.'

'I second that. My back is still sore from sleeping on the floor,' Cullen agreed with their Seeker.

'Who made these cards anyway? They are... _remarkable_ ,' Cassandra praised, holding up her own. Painted with simple solid colours along with a touch of gold and silver for emphasis, they were rather stunning. 

'I did, and you have our Commander to thank for the titles,' Solas announced and the war room went silent.

' _Curly?_ I never would've guessed! Say, if the Commander gig doesn't work out, let me know. I know someone who'd pay good sovereigns for great penmanship,' Varric offered, and Cullen couldn't tell if he was being serious, or mocking him. 

 

•••

'So, Boss, what do you wanna do?' Bull chirped, excited for their victory.

The Inquisitor blinked, surprised. 'I believe that you're the boss now, Bull. For a _full_ week.' 

The Qunari's eyes lit up and he turned from Cassandra to Cullen with a child-like grin on his face.

' **No** ,' they replied curtly in sync. Though it was their initial reaction, they reluctantly agreed in the end. A bet was a bet and everyone had to honour to it. That was how Skyhold held her first stuffed-nug-toy-launching competition (courtesy of Cullen’s trebuchets). It was also how they held monthly drinking competitions at Herald's Rest. Leliana held _that_ crown to everyone's surprise. 

•••

As the war room broke into idle chatter and excitement, the specially made tarot cards sat on the table; Three Empresses and their Accomplices, a few murder weapons, one nut allergy, a Dealer, a Reaper, the Hold, a Messenger, a Throne, a Crown, and a Bard. 

_Three Little Empresses;_ it was a tale that Varric would write about the Inquisition and their lighter days. Just after the chapter of their many rounds of Wicked Grace, that is.

* * *

 


End file.
